


everything that we'd ever need

by andchaos



Series: girls like girls [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fem!Mickey, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbend, Rule 63, fem!ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andchaos/pseuds/andchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey brings her girlfriend to her brother's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything that we'd ever need

          Ian stuck her head into the room where Mickey was doing up her dress, pushing her hair repeatedly out of her face and huffing every time her fingers slipped on the zipper up her back.

          Ian’s eyes traced hungrily over Mickey’s body—shown off in full in her tight green and black dress—before she stepped more fully into the room. “Need some help?” she offered, and Mickey whipped around, her hair flying across her cheeks, her eyes wide before she realized who it was.

          “Jesus Christ, I thought you were my sister.”

          She sighed and turned around, and Ian stepped forwards and did up her zipper before turning Mickey back around by her shoulders. Ian swept her gaze slowly and obviously down Mickey’s entire form, and her lips curled up in a smile as she reached out to run her fingers over the skin shown off the by small triangle cut out of Mickey’s dress, right beneath her breastline.

          “You look good,” said Ian. Mickey bit her lip, dampening her smile just slightly, and wound her arms around Ian’s neck. Her proximity distracted Ian enough that she didn’t realize Mickey was undoing her hair until her bun came loose, and long red curls fell down her back.  She sighed. “Mickey…”

          “I like it down,” said Mickey. Ian intended to further protest the ruination of her hard work, but then Mickey stepped forward the remaining distance between them and pressed her lips gently to Ian’s, and she momentarily forgot her complaints. “Besides, we’ve got loads of time. Did I mention that you look good in a skirt? Very…accessible.”

          Ian again wanted to say something in reprimand, but Mickey slid one hand up her skirt as she spoke, sliding hot over the side of her thigh, and anchored the other on Ian’s neck so she could lean forwards and slot her lips between Ian’s parted ones.

          “I hate skirts,” Ian breathed. Mickey trailed her hand down the line of Ian’s throat and palmed at her breasts, then slipped her hand up beneath her crop top, and Ian’s breath caught. “Hate skirts more than…you hate dresses.”

          “Nobody hates anything more than I hate dresses,” Mickey murmured against where her lips were sliding down her throat. “But we’re being…model daughters…Remember?”

          “Model daughters, daughters who make out during the reception. What’s the…difference?”

          “The _difference_ —” Mickey was half snarling, and Ian latched onto her neck instead and started to suck hard, rucking up her dress at the same time so she could squeeze her ass. Mickey, predictably, wasn’t wearing anything beneath her clothes. “—is not ruining my brother’s wedding…so my dad doesn’t leave us smears of blood across the aisle…”

          “Ooh, keep talking consequences to me, Mick.” Ian laughed, and it blew hot air across the fresh bruise on Mickey’s neck, and made her shiver. “Gets me so hot.”

          The hand Mickey had beneath Ian’s skirt slid up further, between her thighs, and she rubbed a finger lightly, teasing, across the front of Ian’s panties. Ian moaned quietly and went back to kissing Mickey’s neck.

          “Fucking murdered in a church,” Mickey growled, her finger rubbing a little bit harder, and Ian threw her head back and laughed again—nonsensically, breathlessly. “Can see the headline now: Stupid Asshole Gets Her Girlfriend Murdered At A Wedding Reception Full Of Homophobes...continued on page ten.”

          “Is that creepy family friend from Virginia invited? He might stop the brutal double homicide…He looks like he watches lesbian porn on his desktop at two a.m. I think he might stop your dad’s murderous rage if he thinks he can get a free show first.”

          “Oh, yeah, there’s some incentive. My dad’s friends might want to watch you eat me out!”

          She snorted and stepped back, pulling her dress down, but before she could get far Ian pulled her in again and kissed her hard. Mickey’s hands flew automatically to Ian’s waist again, but before Ian could convince her to resume feeling her up, the doorknob clicked, and they jumped apart before it opened.

          Mandy came in a second later, hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

          “What are you two doing?” she asked. “The ceremony starts in like, five minutes!”

          “Just doing Mickey’s makeup,” Ian covered quickly.

          It was not the best excuse, and the two siblings turned to stare at her; Mickey looked vaguely horrified. Ian plastered on a smile and clasped her hands behind her back, trying not to look like she’d had them on Mickey’s ass not a minute ago. Mandy looked between them for a few more seconds before snorting and turning for the door again.

          “Whatever,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Just hurry the fuck up. And ease up on the blush, Mickey’s beet fucking red.”

          Mickey flushed even harder, but Mandy had fortunately already shut the door and did not notice. As soon as her sister was gone, Mickey turned and punched Ian hard on the arm.

          “Now I have to fucking wear makeup!” Mickey hissed, while Ian rubbed her arm and tried not to pout.

          “Relax. Just a little lipgloss or something will be fine. Come on, Mandy might’ve left her bag in the other room from when she did my eyeliner earlier.”

          They hurried down the hall to the room where Ian and the other plus ones had been getting ready, and even though Ian was technically supposed to be Iggy’s date, no one commented when Mickey joined her by the mirror and sat down in a vacant chair.

          “Hurry up,” she snapped. “I fucking…”

          “Oh, shut up. I’m the one with black shit on my lids. You want me to do cat eyes like they did for your prom party? You looked good that night.”

          Mickey only glared at her, unmoved by the half-teasing compliment. “Shut up and do the gloss thing.”

          Ian grinned as rifled through Mandy’s makeup bag and then bent close, studying her work intently as she traced the shape of Mickey’s lips with the lipgloss wand. Her gaze stayed steady on her work, watching Mickey’s full lips indent and fill when the wand passed over them, and when she’d run over them twice she straightened up and closed the tube, pretending like she hadn’t noticed Mickey’s breathing shallow out before.

          Mickey was mashing her lips together when Ian turned back to her, trying to spread and even out the sheer pink gloss on them, and she pouted into the mirror when she was done.

          “I look fucking ridiculous,” she grumbled. Ian couldn’t remember ever wanting to kiss her more.

          “Fucking ridiculous,” she agreed, and Mickey turned to glare at her. She grinned and held out a bottle of cover-up, which Mickey dabbed expertly on the new hickey on her neck. When she was done Ian tucked that back away too, spun around, and gestured for Mickey to follow her back out of the room. “Come on, princess, we’re gonna be late.”

          They sat beside each other at the ceremony, sandwiched between Iggy—who had needed some persuasion to invite Mickey’s best friend instead of a date with whom he could score, under the pretense of giving Mickey someone to hang out with that she actually liked—and Mickey’s date, a light-haired boy that looked bored from being third wheeled by his date and her best friend, and who was already scanning the line of bridesmaids. Ian kept looking over at Mickey and licking her lips, but her hand got slapped away every time she tried to put it anywhere near Mickey’s thigh, which was already pressed against hers.

          The reception was less awful, because everyone was drinking and nobody’s attention was on Mickey, the groom’s sister. The bartender wasn’t carding and they sat side by side at the open bar, sipping rum and cokes and watching the other guests.

          Ian was three drinks deep when she nudged Mickey’s knee with her own and leaned close.

          “Wish I could dance with you,” she whispered. “Wish I could have you grinding up on me…kiss you in front of everyone…” She paused, taking stock of her tipsy thoughts and trying to sort through what was the alcohol and what was herself. Mickey was watching her with both her thick, sharp eyebrows raised, and Ian eyed her up once before leaning so she breathed right into her ear. “Want you, Mickey. Bad.”

          When Ian pulled away, Mickey bit her lip and looked around. No one was looking at them—nothing was very strange about two drunk girls sharing secrets, after all—and she only stopped for a few seconds before she hopped off her stool and snared Ian’s wrist in a hard grip, jerking her to her feet and leading her away through the dingy reception hall.

          She turned them down a quieter hallway and then another, this one empty. Mickey checked twice before shoving Ian through a door and into a one-person bathroom, which she had about two seconds to take in before Mickey slammed the door shut and pulled Ian against her, Mickey’s back against the door. Her fingers where raking through Ian’s hair before Ian could even get her mouth on hers.

          Mickey’s lips were still sticky with whatever lipgloss hadn’t yet rubbed off, but Ian didn’t—couldn’t—mind, not with Mickey’s tongue hot on hers and her hands pulling on her clothes.

          “So fucking hot in these clothes,” Ian groaned, hands sweeping over Mickey’s waist and down to grab her ass and pull her closer.

          Mickey nodded vigorously and dove back in to cover her mouth. Mickey tasted like rum and strawberry lipgloss and _Mickey_ , and Ian tugged up her dress like before, seeking, needing more of her. She didn’t pause, one hand angling Mickey’s head to keep her mouth sealed over hers, the other sweeping up between her thighs and reaching, curling inside her exactly where Ian already knew Mickey liked to be touched.

          “Fuck, _Ian_.”

          Mickey sounded breathless as she sighed between kisses, which was exactly how Ian liked her. She twirled Ian’s curls around her fingers, which dulled the pain slightly when she began to tug, whispering Ian’s name with every other pull.

          Ian swept Mickey’s hair off her shoulder, freeing her mouth of stray strands to make her easier to devour. She kept fingering her, deft and precise inside her, her thumb teasing her clit when Mickey began to ride her hand.

          “Love you,” Ian sighed, kissing the side of her neck not marred by cover-up. “Love you so much.”

          “Love y— _Ian_. I love…”

          She cut off in another high, keening moan, broken off by harder panting, so Ian assumed the rest of her sentence and sped up her fingers instead of pressing for words she’d already heard a thousand times. Mickey was pressing kisses blindly and randomly across her face, and Ian secured her enough to catch her lips when she moaned one last time, loud and long as she fucked Ian’s fingers deeper into herself with a few rolls of her hips.

          Ian rolled Mickey’s dress back down when she was done, since she seemed too busy slumping weak-kneed against the door to do it herself. She waited until Mickey met her eyes and straightened, a silent indicator of regained energy, before she raised her hand—the same one that had, less than a minute ago, been inside her—and sucked one long finger into her mouth.

          Mickey made a low sound in her throat and pushed off the wall, backing Ian up by the hips, her faces inches away. Ian smirked and hopped up onto the sink when she felt the edge of it digging into her lower back, and Mickey raised one eyebrow before sinking to her knees.

          Mickey had a lot of talents; her tongue was one of Ian’s favorites. She tilted her head and ducked beneath Ian’s skirt, and though Ian spread her legs wider to accommodate her, they tensed closer again, securing Mickey between them, when she pulled her panties down and off, opened her mouth, and started to lick.

          Ian sighed and leaned her head back towards the ceiling, her eyes slipping shut. She twisted her hands hard in Mickey’s hair until the other girl grunted about it, then pulled her closer.

          “Have I…ever mentioned…” She paused to lick her lips, and Mickey’s fingers dug sharply into her thigh. “…how much…I love skirts?”

          Mickey pulled away a little, snorting laughter against Ian’s thigh, her head a little shaking bump beneath Ian’s skirt. When she collected herself somewhat, she pressed a kiss to her inner thigh and said, “I told you: Very accessible.”

          Ian nodded blindly, eager to have Mickey back on her, and tugged her back between her legs.

          Mickey recommitted herself with a vengeance; she switched between lapping firmly at and sucking on her clit, and two fingers slid inside her. Ian gave a little groan when Mickey crooked her fingers, which seemed to spur Mickey on even further. Ian was panting quickly, and she came a few minutes later, rocking slightly against Mickey’s face and moaning her name into the otherwise quiet bathroom.

          Mickey stood when Ian slumped back. She wiped her mouth off on the back of her hand and pulled Ian up as well, but Ian only fell against her, arms around her neck and barely supporting her own weight. She wanted to sink to the floor with her and not wake up for long awhile.

          “Was I that good or are you that drunk?” Mickey laughed by her ear. Ian could feel her stroking through her curls and she sighed into her neck.

          “Both,” she mumbled, and Mickey shook with laughter again. “Do we have to go back out there?”

          “Brother’s wedding,” Mickey said simply. Ian pulled a face but tugged on the panties Mickey swiped off the floor and shoved at her. She allowed Mickey to half-drag her back outside when she was dressed again, and she even stood up on her own when they neared the reception hall again.

          Ian drank a little more before she went to dance with Iggy, as he was technically her date even though they both knew he wasn’t getting any from her, ever. As soon as he disappeared to go chat up some bridesmaids, another male relative of Mickey’s asked to cut in, and again, and again. Ian put up with it all, and even smiled forcibly when one them poked her too low on her stomach and made a joke about her being a lightweight, only because she knew that Mickey would eventually save her. Mickey did swoop to her rescue mere seconds after that uncomfortable incident, jaw set and eyes hard, and all but demanded a dance with her best friend. The man holding Ian reluctantly released her into Mickey’s arms, but neither of them fully relaxed until he walked away to harass someone else.

          Mickey pulled her closer and clasped their hands together, and began an awkward two-step that seemed somewhat platonic. She didn’t bother asking if Ian was okay, she just pushed her hair away from her face and smiled sympathetically at her. Ian just wanted to slump against her and go to bed, the drinks she’d had earlier swaying her towards sleep, but she raised her eyes to Mickey’s and tried to focus through her fuzzy head.

          “Hey, beautiful,” Mickey said softly. “You ready to go home?”

          Ian nodded, resisting the urge to lay her head on Mickey’s shoulder. She bunched her hands tighter into the sides of Mickey’s dress, knuckles brushing her ribs.

          “You’ll get in trouble if you leave,” she breathed. “I’m not going without you.”

          Mickey didn’t say anything to that—there was no argument, because it was all true.

          “You wanna sit down?” she tried instead.

          Ian shook her head. “Wanna keep dancing with you,” she said.

          “Okay.”

          She felt Mickey tightening her hold on her and did the same, pulling Mickey the slightest bit closer, as close as they could get away with. She let Mickey worry about holding them upright and maintaining their half-assed dancing, and focused on keeping her eyes open and on Mickey’s.

          The music played on, and the people around them got louder and drunker, but for awhile, it was just her and Mickey in their own, safe space. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> title off girls like girls by hayley kiyoko because i'm t r a s h for that song. literal trash. did i listen to it 100 times while writing this? you can't prove that.
> 
> find me at [absolutqueen](http://absolutqueen.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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